Hamilsquad HurtFic
by GracefulRavenFeathers
Summary: The Hamilsquad is ambushed by a troop of Redcoats, and someone gets hurt. First attempt at a Hurtfic and first attempt at Hamilton. Rated T for violence only(no swears or funny buisness)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi. This is my first attempt at a Hamilton Fic, so please review if it stinks, or the characters are too OOC, or if you have any ideas for a part 2. This idea kept running around in my head, not letting me sleep.**

 **As a side note, I did not intend any ships to be portrayed in this story, but you do you. Read and interperet how ever you want. All french translations are google translate, so i apologize to all actual French speakers.**

 **Enjoy!**

Lafayette fired his musket at one of the Redcoats that surrounded them. As he ran out of ammunition, five of his enemies got in closer, jabbing with their bayonets. Laurens suddenly charged at them, wielding the sword Lafayette had dropped near the beginning of the battle. Two fell, before a third scraped his leg with his weapon.

Alexander heard his friend scream in pain from the other side of the fight. Eyes widening, he and Hercules ran toward the sound. But in his distraction, Hercules didn't see the Redcoat aiming a musket at him. Alex did however, and, without thinking, pushed his friend forward and took the shot himself. His side immediately lit up in pain, and he heard an awful, gut-wrenching scream. It took a few seconds for Alex to realize that it was him. Time seemed to slow down.

He heard the popping of gunfire, and the thudding of of bodies on the ground, and an angry roar that could only be Hercules Mulligan, and french obscenities echoing as though he was under water. Someone was shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw that it was Laurens.

"ALEX! You need to stay awake!"

" _Et restez à l'écart_!" Lafayette yelled in the background, swinging his sword wildly at the retreating soldiers.

"Laurens? What's...Where…" Alexander tried.

"You are going to be okay. We've got to get you out of here." Laurens lifted Hamilton into his arms, but stumbled and fell as his leg gave out.

"LAFAYETTE! HERCULES!" Laurens almost shrieked at the frenchman, "I need your help!"

Lafayette, sprinted across the field as fast as his long legs would carry him, with the tailor's apprentice right on his tail.

"La merde … is he going to be okay?"

"I...I, don't know. But we have to get him out of here!" Laurens repeated, trying to stay calm. "He took a bullet for Herc."

Lafayette's eyes widened. He scooped Hamilton up bridal style, while Hercules helped Laurens up. Alexander began to convulse in Lafayette's arms, tears streaming down his face.

"Laf… Laf it _hurts, ça fait tellement mal."_

"You are are going to be okay, _mon ami._ I promise. _S'il vous plaît,_ stay awake."

Hamilton nodded weakly, but was interrupted by a horrible coughing fit, as he choked on his own blood.

Lafayette began to panic, calling out to his friends. " _Mal. Très très Mauvais._ How far are we from camp?!"

Laurens grimaced, looking around desperately and leaning heavily on Hercules for support. "Laf, you're the fastest, but not the strongest. So even If you run the entire way, at your top speed, you could get him to the camp in about…" He paused, doing calculations in his head, "25 minutes."

"He may not have that long," Hercules said mournfully. "This is my fault, I should've paid attention…"

"Herc," Laurens said sternly, "We can't focus on what should have or could have been. We need to focus on getting Alex to a doctor. We need…"

" _Un miracle_ ," Lafayette stated sadly, and took off.

 **So there we go. Again, if anyone has any comments, or plotholes, or suggestions, please review or PM me! There will be a part 2 if i can collect my thoughts. Thanks!**

 **RN**


	2. Chapter 2

**French Translations for Chapter 1**

And stay out!

Crap

It hurts so bad.

My friend

Please

Bad. Very very very Bad.

A miracle


	3. Chapter 3

Part 2-

 **Hi guys, i'm back. Thanks for all the reviews! This chapter will include mild HamLiza shipping, as well as sad Washington Backstory. I also got my thoughts together enough to figure out when this is taking place; Right after Guns and Ships. Instead of Washington writing a letter, he sends Laf and John to pick Alex up so he can fight in the Battle of Yorktown. They also pick up Herc, who happened to be visiting the Hamiltons at the time. On their way The Redcoats attacked, and took out their horses (cue crying Hercules XD), hence Lafayette having to run Alex to camp. This chapter kind of replaces History Has Its Eyes on you. Also WASHINGDAD! Enjoy!**

Alexander was in and out of consciousness as Lafayette ran him towards camp. When he blacked out, which (to Lafayette's horror) was becoming more and more frequent, he dreamt of Eliza, wondering if she could ever forgive him for dying in the war, when she had specifically asked him-well more like _commanded_ him-to stay alive long enough to meet his son. He tried to imagine what his son would look like. When he was Lucid, however, all Hamilton could concentrate on was the blinding, white-hot pain that engulfed his entire being. He screamed and pleaded for it to stop, unable to control it.

Meanwhile, Lafayette's long legs were growing tired as he tried to stay at his top speed, but it was obvious it wouldn't be enough; Alex kept lapsing back into unconsciousness, and each time it lasted longer. The frenchman worried the next blackout might be his friend's last, and camp was still painfully far away. But Lafayette kept on, praying for a miracle. He didn't expect what came next.

Alex awoke again, head and side screaming, only to see an angel; Washington himself, astride a white horse, hurtling towards them. The screams of pain came, but Hamilton found himself relaxing slightly-Washington was here. Washington had come to help him. If he could just get to Washington, he'd be okay. Safe.

" _Dieu merci!_ " He heard Lafayette's triumphant, thankful proclamation, through a haze of pain. Unbeknownst to him, his body began producing a cruel, breathless simulation of laughter. He began to drift off, but his mind fought viciously to stay awake. He couldn't die here. Eliza was expecting him! His son couldn't grow up fatherless; the way he had.

Washington was getting too old for this level of drama. When The Marquis de Lafayette and Colonel John Laurens were late in retrieving Hamilton, Washington wasn't too worried. They'd probably gotten distracted on their way. But as the hours ticked on, he became more and more worried. What if something had happened? Washington thought of Hamilton and his friends as practically his children. He'd never had children of his own, but he'd raised his wife's remaining children. His daughter Patsy had died, and Washington still felt as if there was a hole in his chest.

Eventually, the General had had enough. Shaking himself out of his sad memories, he considered sending his aide-de-camps out to look for them, then decided he needed the break. Something inside told him that something was wrong; they should've been back by now. So he set out, covering the ground quickly. But when he saw a figure in the distance, he increased his speed so he could see who it was. Washington felt his heart sink; It was Lafayette carrying an injured Hamilton bridal style. The closer he got, the louder the heart-breaking screams of agony emanating from the man he thought of as a son became. His only thought as he dismounted was, "I will not lose another child."

Lafayette quickly and succinctly told the General what had happened, then he and Washington lifted Alex onto the horse. Washington remounted and nodded thankfully at the frenchman, then galloped towards camp. Lafayette breathed a sigh of relief, trying to catch his breath. He then pressed onto the camp to commandeer a couple horses and some water. Then He immediately went back for Laurens and Hercules, despite being exhausted.

Lafayette found them stumbling blearily along, Hercules practically dragging a half conscious Laurens. John looked bad, pale and shivering despite the sweat dripping down his forehead. His leg wound was still bleeding, soaking through the makeshift bandage that was actually Herc's headband.

Lafayette stopped and dismounted. Laurens was obviously in no fit state to ride on his own, so he put him on his own horse and gave Herc the other. They rode off to camp, anxious to hear how Alex was doing.

 **French Translations**

Thank goodness!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

 **Wow guys! Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! This is probably my most popular fanfic I've ever written!**

 **Anyways, enjoy the 3rd and final installment!**

George Washington was beyond worried. The ride back to camp, Alexander kept switching back and forth between muttering deliriously about Eliza and his son and how Washington would save him, to screaming in agony begging and pleading for the intense pain to end. French words kept coming through in both instances, making it even more unintelligible. Washington was going as fast as he could, but Hamilton was fading faster.

They finally burst into camp, and Washington quickly dismounted and ran Alex to the medical tent. The medic paled, then got to work cleaning Alex's wound. Washington began pacing, knowing he wouldn't be able to work on anything until Alex's condition stabilized. Alex drifted into unconsciousness. The sudden silence after the endless flow of words was ominous.

"Your Excellency, sir?" The medic asked hesitantly. Washington immediately froze, whirling towards the Doctor.

"Officer Hamilton's wound, thankfully, wasn't infected. I've managed to clean and bandage it, and it should heal as nicely as General Lee's."

"Do you know when he'll wake up?" Washington questioned, internally sighing in relief.

"Unfortunately, He's slipped into a deep coma. I'm not sure if he'll ever awaken. But Mr. Hamilton is notorious for defying all attempts on his life. There is a strong chance he'll come around."

Washington choked on his relieved sigh. Coma? Before he could continue his thought process, The rest of the Hamilsquad entered the Medical Tent. Hercules Mulligan placed a now unconscious John Laurens on the cot next to Alexander. The medic rushed over and began cleaning Laurens' bayonet wound. Lafayette sat down in a chair next to his unconscious friends. Washington headed back to his tent for a drink, while the doctor told everyone what was happening. Herc sank down into a chair next to Lafayette, worried out his mind about his friends.

Alex felt like he was drowning; darkness encompassed him, he couldn't feel his body, and he couldn't tell which way was up. He couldn't think clearly enough to determine how long he'd hung weightless and alone in the dark. He was vaguely aware of pain, of someone crying, and familiar presences all around him. His brilliant mind spun, trying to find a way back to… to what? His mind was too foggy. He couldn't think of who or what was tying him to the world. He thought harder, desperate for a lifeline, and suddenly a flash of blue darted across his thoughts, accompanied by a quiet, feminine laugh and a warm touch. A woman was calling to him, singing quietly, begging him to stay alive. Alex felt as though he should know, should _Remember_.

"Let me be a part of the narrative, of the story they will write someday," the girl in blue was murmuring as she rubbed his back. "And if this child bears a fraction of your smile or a fragment of your mind, look out world, that would be enough."

Hamilton desperately clung to this memory. He had to rise up out of the deep water he'd found himself drowning in. Rise up for his child, for his...

"ELIZA!" Alex woke yelling. His eyes focused on his three best friends as their heads snapped up at the unexpected outburst.

" _ALEX EST VIVANT! Il vit qu'il vit qu'il vit!_ " Lafayette screamed joyfully, so loud Washington heard it from his office. He wiped a few tears away as he bounced around the room excitedly, which did not go unnoticed by the rest of the squad.

"Hamilton, thank goodness!" Laurens said, choking up. When Laf and Herc had informed him of Alex's condition, he had feared for his best friend, while still in immense pain from his own injuries. But that had been 3 days ago.

"How long was I out?" Alex asked, a little hesitantly. He almost didn't want to know the answer.

"Five days," came the booming reply. Alex turned his head to see Washington standing in the doorway. Hamilton's brown eyes widened in shock.

"You gave us quite a scare Alexander," Hercules said. Alex realized that he'd been crying too. He'd made all three of his best friends cry. _Nice going_ , he thought angrily at himself.

"I'm sorry," Alex mumbled sheepishly, but everyone heard.

"Alexander Hamilton!" Washington spluttered indignantly. "Sorry for what? Being Heroic? Saving Hercules? Coming back to help the war effort even though I sent you home?"

"Do you have a death wish or something?" Herc asked jokingly.

"It's not that he has a death wish, it's that he no longer believes he _can_ die!" Laurens laughed.

"I just can't seem to die, can I?" Alex asked with an amused gleam in his eyes.

He tried to stand, his half healed wound flaring painfully. His friends tried to stop him, but it was no use. He moved stiffly into a standing position, then took a few shaky steps toward the door. Surprisingly, he made it, stumbling only on the last step. Washington caught him, and two sets of eyes met.

"I'd like to talk to you in private, son."

Alexander huffed, "I'm notcha son," but allowed The General to lead him back to his tent. When they arrived, Washington had Alex sit in one of the chairs, then took a deep breath.

"I was younger than you are now when I was given my first command. I led my men straight into a massacre and witnessed their deaths first hand." Washington was visibly trying not to cry as Alex tried to comprehend what had happened.

"I made every mistake and felt the shame rise in me. And even now I lie awake knowing history has its eyes on me."

Washington looked pointedly at Hamilton at this, and Alex gasped.

"History has its eyes on me," he murmured in realization. The older man nodded. He went behind his desk and took out a sword.

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory; you have no control who lives who dies who tells your story." he handed the sword to Alex, who accepted it in a state of shocked silence.

"I know that we can win," Washington said, his hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "I know that greatness lies in you. Just remember from here on in, History has its eyes on you."

The General smiled down at the man he still thought of as a son, and dismissed him to confer with his men. Alexander left the tent head spinning, but knew that he'd fight harder than ever, and he'd win.

The end.

 **Well there you have it folks! This was a lot of fun to write, and lots of people have read it! I'm considering writing another story based on this one, kind of an alternate with more pain. So be on the lookout for that! If you liked this story, check out some of my others. I have a Voltron; Legendary Defender one, a couple young justice ones, and a Voltron/Percy Jackson crossover. Stay awesome guys!**

 **French Translations**

ALEX IS ALIVE! HE LIVES HE LIVES HE LIVES!

 **RN**


End file.
